


eishet chayil

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, 悪魔城伝説 | Castlevania lll: Dracula's Curse
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Jewish Character, Lullabies, Parenthood, Post-Season/Series 02, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: While traveling with Sypha, Trevor sings a lullaby from his childhood to calm their restless and crying newborn baby.





	eishet chayil

They make their way through the woods under the protection of night. Sliding down hills covered in dead leaves, climbing over fallen trees that have rotted into the ground. Their only company being each other, the night sky, and the forest with all its creatures. It’s better than traveling the roads.

They both know they should rest, but time is more important now than ever. The caravan is close and it will take them far, far away to a much better place. If not better, then perhaps safer. Sypha doesn’t know these Speakers; not personally. Not like the commune she was born into. But they’re her people. They all share the same comforts, traditions, and plights. Those are good enough reasons to trust them. She’ll certainly take the Speakers over the city she and Trevor now flee from, full of God’s men who would like nothing more than to see both of them tied to flaming pyres in the middle of the church square. The more she thinks about it, the more her stomach turns with anger and nausea.

The bundle held safely against Trevor’s chest is small. Small enough to fit comfortably in the crook of his arm. Only seven days old with a head of thin, wispy hair as dark as her father’s and eyes brighter than her mother’s. Sarai may sleep soundly, undisturbed by the constant walking, but she came into this world a fighter. Kicking, writhing, and screaming as loud as her new lungs would allow it. As the child of a Belnades and a Belmont, it wasn’t surprising. Now she rests, having spent all energy in those first few moments of life.

Of course, not every night goes so smoothly or quietly. Trevor feels Sarai squirm inside the wrap tied across his chest and over his shoulder. He rubs her back in an effort to comfort but the crying has already begun. Sypha and Trevor immediately stop their trek along the winding overgrown trail they’ve found themselves on, giving all their attention to Sarai. They weigh their options while looking down at her tightly shut eyes and tiny open mouth as each cry cuts through the silence of the woods.

“You think she’s hungry?” Trevor adjusts the wrap in order to gain a better hold. While her cries grow in volume, he creates a gentle bouncing motion with Sarai’s curled up body in his arms.

“But it hasn’t been that long since her last feeding. Maybe she had an accident or is sick.” Panic begins to settle within Sypha once she realizes what she’s suggesting. Trevor tries easing her worries.

“No, she doesn’t feel sick. There’s no sign of a fever, her skin’s fine, and she’s clean enough. She’s probably just restless. Or had a nightmare.”

“It’s only been a week… is it even possible for her to start having nightmares now?”

He stares at Sarai, still weeping and howling with no sign of stopping. His expression softens out of empathy. “Considering what we’ve been through, I wouldn’t rule out that possibility.”

It hurts him to say, and hurts Sypha even more to hear, but it is the most likely truth. They both remember their own nightmares, the ones that plagues their childhoods and those that carried on into their adult years. Grief and hurt have insidious ways of passing themselves onto future generations like curses. Although there are no counter spells, no acts of valour that can dispel them forever. Nothing can make them disappear. What can help ease the suffering is compassion. Sarai will have no shortage of what she deserves in her life. Trevor and Sypha will make sure of that.

“Shh, it’s alright. You’re okay. We’re right here, there’s nothing to be upset about.” Trevor holds Sarai as he gently coos. Between each bout of loud crying, she chokes out feeble sniffling and whimpering sounds. “I have an idea.” He doesn’t say what it is. Instead, Trevor finds a grassy area at the base of a large tree to sit down with one hand safely holding Sarai while the other tugs on Sypha’s loose sleeve. She joins him on the ground and waits.

Cupping the back of her fragile head, Trevor sways side to side, back and forth, eventually closing his eyes. Trying to remember something from a past that feels so far away. Something that kept the nightmares at bay for one peaceful night. Something he heard from his mother with her long-braided hair and scars gracing cheekbones. Sometimes during only one day of the week amongst friends and family, other times during many while he lay in bed underneath heavy blankets and furs. Soon enough, the words come to him. First in fragments then all together.

_“_ _Eishes chayil mi yimtza ve-rachok mi-peninim michrah_ _._

_Batach bah leiv ba'alah ve-shalal lo yech'sar._

_Gemalas'hu tov ve-lo ra kol yemei chayeha._

_Dar'eshah tzemer u'fishtim va-ta'as be-cheifetz kapeha.”_

The pitch of the song sounds off while the melody comes and goes, yet the quality of Trevor’s singing doesn’t matter. His voice is low in tone, full of warmth. With every line further into the song, more and more he can recall what the words mean.

 _“_ _Piha pas'echah ve-chachma ve-soras chesed al leshona.”_ She opens her mouth with wisdom and a lesson of kindness is on her tongue.

 _“Tzofiyah halichos beisa ve-lechem atzlus lo socheil.”_ She looks after the conduct of her household and never tastes the bread of laziness.

 _“Kamu vaneha va-ye'ash'eruha ba'ala va-yehal'elah.”_  Her children rise up and make her happy; her husband praises her.

 _“Rabos banos asu chayil vi-as alis al kulana.”_ Many women have excelled, but you excel them all.

Sarai fidgets as all babies do but her wrinkled face relaxes as her tears cease. Trevor kisses her forehead, speaking the last verse softer than before while her eyes blink slowly. He shares a breath of relief with Sypha. “Here,” she says. “It’s my turn. Let me hold her for a while.” Trevor smiles and nods before handing their daughter off to her. “You never told me you could sing.”

“There’s a good reason. You heard how terrible I am at it.”

“No, I would not say that. It helped calm this little one down.”

Trevor turns down his gaze, bashful. “Well… can you not say anything about it to anyone else?”

“Depends. How much does it embarrass you?” Before Trevor can stutter out an answer, Sypha chuckles and kisses his jawline. “I’m only teasing. Your singing is wonderful, Treffy.” She reaches over, playfully yet tenderly squishing his cheeks. She’s feeling much better now. He responds by taking her hand and kissing it.

“Flatterer.”

“Did your mother sing that song to you?”

“She did, but that was a long time ago. Shocked I remember all of it.” But Trevor isn’t shocked, nor is there an inkling of surprise. Every day, more of his past life before and after the fire comes back to him. Despite all the things he wishes would fade away, more often than not there are memories he hopes will never be forgotten. Personal comforts and valuable lessons learned which he and Sypha can pass onto Sarai. Always Sarai. Every thought, every action, revolves around her. They wouldn’t have it any other way.

Standing up, Trevor and Sypha continue down their trail without a hint of tiredness. At least the stars are generous enough to give them light.

**Author's Note:**

> this one is dedicated to all the trevorxsypha fans out there. all 3 of you


End file.
